


The One Where Jon Dates Jon

by AtThePleasureOfThePundit



Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: Fake Dating, First Kiss, Fluff, Heavy Handed Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 05:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13451397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtThePleasureOfThePundit/pseuds/AtThePleasureOfThePundit
Summary: “Wow…” Favs blinked, a little stunned, “So he’s you’re only option? Even though you and he won’t amount to anything? And he’s, y’know, a Republican?”“Yep,” Lovett said, popping the ‘p’ in abject misery. “Normally I wouldn’t complain, but he refuses to even get dinner with me. Is it so much to ask for a little more than a ‘Hey u up? Come over’ text.”__Based on episode 13 season 8 of Friends. Lovett's lonely, Favs decides to be a gentleman and take him on a fake date to cheer him up, and the obvious ensues.





	The One Where Jon Dates Jon

**Author's Note:**

> As with everything I write, LongestFormCensus is the real brains behind the operation and without her I wouldn't finish anything <3

 

 

 

“I’m going to die alone,” Lovett proclaimed, flopping dramatically onto the couch. Favs looked up from his laptop. 

 

“You doing alright, Jon?” he asked the back of Lovett’s head. Lovett let out a muffled groan and flipped over onto his back. 

 

“DC is homophobic.” 

 

“You’ve told me this is true, but what’s prompting you to despair about it this time?” Favs closed his laptop. He wasn’t getting any work done anyway. 

 

“I haven’t gone on a date in  _ months!”  _ Lovett moaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “ I know five gay men in Washington even remotely near my power level and sorta single. One's  _ super _ out of my league, one's just out of a bad breakup, two have just started dating, and one's  _ this guy, _ " Lovett gestures at his phone, “who has just made it  _ very  _ clear he’s not into the idea of a real relationship.” 

 

“Who’s just started dating? I didn’t hear about that.” 

 

“Chris and Davis.” 

 

“Oh, good for them,”  Favs said, “I was wondering when they’d stop dancing around each other.”

“I hate that you’re as caught up on Washington, DC gay gossip as you are.”

 

“No one to blame but yourself for that,” Jon said mildly, “Besides, everyone saw the writing on the wall between those two.”

 

“Yes, yes, it's all very nice and wonderful for  _ them _ ,” Lovett huffed, “meanwhile I’m stuck hooking up with John ‘I’m just saying we need to create jobs, and the best way to do that is to fund people who are able to create them’ Vicount, so..." 

 

“Wait,” Favs interjected, “is this guy a  _ Republican?”  _

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Lovett waved his hand again, “It’s not like we’re  _ dating  _ or anything, we’re just-” he made a vague gesture, “-whatever.” 

 

“Maybe it’s just not a good time for you to be in a relationship?” Favs offered. He tried very hard not to think about Lovett doing  _ whatever  _ with a Republican.

 

“I guess,” Lovett said, dropping his arms, “but, I mean, I’m only human, Favs, I do get lonely.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows, which Favs humoured with a disgusted scoff. 

 

“Maybe you just need to get out of your circle,” Favs offered, “Find someone who wants what you want, and do  _ whatever  _ with them?”

 

“That would involve going to a club and meeting new people,” Lovett groaned, “which I could do, but frankly I'm fucking exhausted at the end of my day, and I don't want to hook up with a reporter by accident, or run into a reporter on my way in or out. And at least I know what to expect with Vicount, so that's where I'm at. It would be nice to fuck someone without my own name, but beggars can't be choosers." Lovett shrugged and turned back to his phone. 

 

“Wow…” Favs blinked, a little stunned, “So he’s you’re only option? Even though you and he won’t amount to anything? And he’s, y’know, a Republican?” 

 

“Yep,” Lovett said, popping the ‘p’ in abject misery. “Normally I wouldn’t complain, but he refuses to even get  _ dinner _ with me. Is it so much to ask for a little more than a ‘Hey u up? Come over’ text.”

 

“Sorry man, you deserve better,” Favs said. He could, at least, sympathize with the problem. It was hard dating with the job they had and the hours they worked. At least he had more options than five men, one of them a Republican. 

 

He glanced over at the other couch and watched Lovett angrily scroll through a backlog of texts. Lovett deserved better than to grovel for a Republican’s attention and not even get a nice dinner out of it. 

 

“Hey, Lovett?” he asked after a moment, “When  _ was _ the last time you went on a date?”

 

“Uhhhhhh…..” Lovett screwed his face up trying to remember, “Well, three weeks ago I planned a date but it fell through so… like six months-ish?” 

 

“That’s not bad,” Favs said, “Why didn’t I hear about this date?”

 

“Well, I mean, I  _ thought  _ he wanted like, a real date, but he really just wanted a few drinks before saying some truly… truly vulgar stuff so,” Lovett replied, trying for flippant and landing on bitter. He shrugged. “I really don’t have that much of an ego, but I thought it was a  _ date.  _ Like, dinner and a restaurant, maybe a movie, an ‘oh would you like to come in for a cup of coffee’ instead of a shove toward the club bathroom.” 

 

Favreau laughed a little, in support of the rant. 

 

“It’s just been so long since anyone took me out and tried to impress me and treated me right,” he twisted on the couch, facing Favs, “I clean up nice, y’know. I can be charming. I’ve been told I’m a sparkling conversationalist. But not when someone's idea of a date is three shots of vodka at a bar and telling me how good I'd look- anyway." Lovett untwisted and went limp on the couch, “Doesn’t matter. Whatever.”

 

Favs could feel something curdle deep in his stomach at seeing Lovett so self-deprecating and upset. He hated seeing Lovett like this, complaining bombastically and quietly, actually heartbroken. Lovett deserved better than this. At the very least he deserved a nice man to take him to dinner and treat him to a good time. Favs wondered vaguely if anyone had ever sent Lovett flowers. 

 

“What are you doing friday?” Favs asked, before he let himself think this through. 

 

“What?” Lovett said, twisting back around. 

 

“Like… For dinner,” Favs said, trying to keep a blush from creeping up his face. Lovett just stared at him, and Favs began to fidget under his gaze. 

 

“I just- I’m pretty good at the whole, y’know, courtship thing...” he said, ploughing through, “...and I think it’s a shame you haven’t been taken out on a real date in like half a year, so…”

 

“Is this a joke?” Lovett said, bristling, “Because if so, very funny, I’m  _ so  _ desperate, and my friends have to take me on pity dates because I’m going to die alone-”

 

“No!” Favs said, “No, look, _look_ - you’re a great guy, Lovett, and I just want to- I just thought it might, y’know, lift your spirits if someone showed you a good time. So, I’m offering. Let me take you to a nice restaurant and buy you dinner. I’ll pick you up at 8 and have you home before midnight like an honourable gentleman. I could even get Tommy to give a shovel talk.” 

 

He counted it as a small victory when the corner of Lovett’s mouth twitched upwards. 

 

“I’ll bring flowers,” he said, and that, of all things, made Lovett smile. 

 

“What kind of flowers?” Lovett asked, glancing at him slyly, “Are we talking about an over-achieving first date, or are we two months in where it’s appropriate to get roses?”

 

“I dunno,” Favs shrugged, “I’ve always brought flowers on the first date.”

 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Lovett said, flopping back on the couch. “Women have it  _ good _ .” 

 

A moment of silence passed. Favreau’s offer hung heavily between them. 

 

“Alright, fine, sounds like fun,” Lovett said, sitting up again, “But first you need to ask me properly.” 

 

“What?” Favs said, watching as Lovett settled himself on the couch and opened his phone. 

 

“You’re sitting there, on my couch, like you’ve been for the past three hours. I need you to properly come over to me and ask me out,” Lovett says, not looking up from his phone, “So go into the hall, come back, and ask me  _ properly.”  _  Favs laughed, and set his laptop on the coffee table. 

 

He should have known that Lovett would be particular about this. He walked out into the hall and turned back around to face the living room, like this wasn’t Tommy and Lovett’s apartment. If Lovett wanted him to do this properly, he was damn well going to do it properly. 

 

“Hey, Jon,” he called, leaning against the doorframe in a way he knew framed his shoulders nicely, “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner with me sometime.” He kept his voice pitched low and crossed his arms. “I've been meaning to check out that new place downtown, and I'd love to take you.”

 

He watched as Lovett’s eyes flicked over his arms and then up at his face.  _ Score one for Favreau _ , Favs thought. 

 

“Is that so?” Lovett said, keeping his voice light and flirty, “What time were you thinking?” 

 

He was still sitting on the couch, which, Favs noticed, let Lovett look up at him through his thick eyelashes. 

 

“Friday? 8 o’clock?” Favs asked, smiling hopefully, “I’ll swing by your place and pick you up.” 

 

Lovett pretended to think it over. 

 

“I could do Friday,” he said, “8 you said? Don’t be late,” he continued, mock stern. 

 

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Favs said with a wink, and grinned when Lovett rolled his eyes in a  _ Really, Favreau?  _ expression. 

 

It was enough to make Favs laugh and break the tension.

 

“Then it’s a date,” Lovett said. Favs noticed a slight blush creeping up his neck. 

 

This was going to be fun. 

 

___

 

Friday rolled around, and Lovett was glaring at himself in the mirror. He huffed a breath, trying to straighten the fall of his good sweater, and smooth out some wrinkles in his most acceptable pair of pants. It would be fine. It would have to be. 

 

It wasn’t even a real date, it was just for fun, but Favreau had turned it into a competition, and now he had to  _ win _ . On Thursday, he had texted Lovet just to tell him how excited he was for their date. Lovett wasn’t about to back down from a challenge. In retaliation, Lovett had ironed his shirt, and spent the last twenty minutes trying to make his hair look presentable. He’d thanked his stars that Tommy had been out all day rather than home to catch him steal clean, matching socks from his dresser.

 

He still nearly jumped out of his skin when someone knocked on the door. 

 

“Shit,” Lovett whispered under his breath. He glanced at his watch. Favs was right on time. Of course he was. Couldn’t be five minutes late like a regular person. 

 

“Coming!” he called out, and gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror. Good enough.

 

He jogged out to the kitchen and opened the door to find Favs wearing one of his good suits, freshly shaved, and holding a bouquet of yellow roses. 

 

Favs looked him up and down. “Wow… you look… amazing.” He sounded convincingly awed, and it made a small bit of heat bloom in Lovett’s stomach despite himself. 

 

“I was just getting ready,” Lovett said, letting Favs into the apartment. He really brought flowers. 

 

“Oh, no problem,” Favs replied, easy as anything, “We’re in no hurry. You get ready and I’ll just stay out here.” 

 

Lovett lingered a moment on the roses still in Favs’s hand before stepping back into his room. He rested for a moment with his back against the door and closed his eyes. The image of Favs, standing in his kitchen with his stupidly handsome smile and  _ roses _ for him was burned into the backs of his eyelids. No one had ever brought him roses before.

This may have been a mistake. 

 

He can do this. He can go on a fake date with his extremely hot straight friend and not fall in love. It would be just like every other time they ate dinner together, except this time Favs is trying his hardest to act like the boyfriend sent from heaven.This will be  _ fine _ .

 

He fussed with his hair one last time, put on a touch of his fancy occasion cologne, and grabbed his shoes. 

 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, greeting Favs with a charming smile. Favs had put the roses in a novelty glass stein Tommy had bought from a bar months ago.

 

“You didn’t have a vase,” Favs said, by way of explanation. He looked extremely proud of himself for his solution. It was obnoxiously charming. Favs held out an arm, and grinned at him. 

 

“Shall we?” 

 

__

 

The restaurant Favs picked was new. It was a distinct mix of classic and trendy that Lovett associated with new money artistic types. It had soft music and Edison bulbs hanging from the rafters. It was the exact type of place someone would bring a date they were trying to impress. 

 

Favs made a point of opening the door for him. 

 

“Reservations?” the hostess asked, smiling at the two of them with a genuine but tired hospitality. 

 

“Yes, for two, just under ‘Jon,’” Favs said, grinning at Lovett to see if he got the joke. Lovett rolled his eyes. 

 

“Right this way,” she replied brightly, leading them to a table in front of the window. Lovett reached for his chair, but Favs beat him to it. 

 

“God, you really do like playing the gentleman, don’t you?” Lovett said, ignoring the blush rising in his cheeks. 

 

“I just want do everything I can to make sure my date feels taken care of,” Favs answered easily, “I said I was going to wine and dine you like you deserve, so that’s what I plan on doing.” 

 

Favs punctuated the last word by snapping open his menu. His hands were very big on the leather cover. God, this was going to be a long night. 

 

“So… Some appetizers to share do you think?” Favs said after a moment, “See anything you like?” 

 

“There’s a triple churned trempette de brie,” Lovett said, brightening. Favs grinned back at him. 

 

“What?” Favs said, curiously.

 

“It’s basically fancy cheese dip,” Lovett replied with a grin, “which I know you love.”

 

“Oh  _ fuck _ yeah,” Favs said, eyes skimming the menu. He seemed to make his choice and reached for the wine list. Lovett returned his gaze to the entrées, trying to figure out what he’d order. Usually on the first date, he’d order something lighter; pan seared fish or a salad with grilled chicken. It was a stupid play, but Lovett never liked eating in front of new people. Even then, he always felt there was nothing on any menu he could order without someone judging you.

 

However, Favs had seen him eat an entire sharing platter of nachos, so that ship had probably sailed. He trailed his eyes down a long list of pastas and mentally weighed a good sauce against good side dishes.

 

“ Isn't this nice?" Favs said, glancing up, "I've been meaning to get down here forever. I should thank you for the excuse, really."

 

“Why didn’t you come here before?” Lovett was genuinely curious. “You clearly enjoy this dating thing, and unless I’m very much mistaken or the entirety of DC went blind, and I didn’t notice, you don’t have any trouble finding willing participants.” 

 

Favs shrugged. 

 

"It's weird, it's like, if I don't care about the person, if I don't like spending time with them already, it just feels kinda, I don't know, cheap? And I guess I haven't found anyone like that recently," he answered. 

 

"Like, I wanna show a girl a good time, but I know I can only do that if I have a good time, too." He smiled, showing off the stupidly attractive gap between his teeth.

 

"Why, Jon, are you looking forward to a good time tonight? I'm flattered." Lovett grinned.

Favs laughed at him, tossing his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. Lovett ruthlessly squashed the fluttering in his stomach. God, how was this man single?

 

The waitress appeared out of nowhere, and Lovett abruptly realized he had spent more time looking at Favreau than the menu. 

“Can I start you off with some wine?” the waitress said, brushing her hair off her shoulder. Lovett felt a strange stab of jealousy as she smiled at Favs. 

 

"Which of these two is more full-bodied?" Favs replied,  "You alright with red?” He tilted his head towards Lovett as he asked, “There's a lovely sauvignon blanc if you were thinking white."

 

Lovett stifled a giggle. He’d seen Favreau drink lukewarm beer with a shot of tequila because they’d run out of mix. Favs was absolutely bluffing, but Lovett had to admit that it worked.

 

"Whatever you think, I trust your judgement on wine," Lovett said, remembering the time Favs showed Alyssa how to shove a straw into a wine bottle so she could chug the whole thing in about thirty seconds.

 

“The merlot has more body, and it’s a very dry red, good for pairing with steaks,” the waitress answered. Lovett was fairly sure she knew about as much as Favs did about wine, but she was certainly putting on a good show of trying to impress him.

 

“The merlot then,” Favs said, handing the wine list back to the waitress, “and we’re gonna share the trempette de brie to start.”

 

“Great! I’ll leave you to read your menus, and I’ll be right back with your wine,” she said, cheerily, and swept off to other tables. 

 

“So what are you thinking of getting?” Lovett said, trying to decide whether he was in the mood for fish or not. He looked across the table through his eyelashes, in a way that he knew made him look cute. Big and doe-eyed might not be Favs’s thing, but frankly, this date was still competition, and he wasn’t about to start pulling punches.

 

“I’m not sure,” Favs replied, biting his lip as he trailed his eyes across the menu, “I was thinking maybe steak? I don’t know, what are you having?”

 

In the low light of the restaurant, Favs looked effortlessly contented. He looked as though there was no stress in his life or anything that could make him happier than to be at this table with Lovett. He wasn’t trying to rush them home or play games; he was just relaxed about everything happening and happy to be there. 

 

It was nice to see him like this, as opposed to the ball of stress he was at the office, or the utterly boneless relaxed way he was when they all hung out. This might be the only chance he ever got to see him like this.    
  


“Jon?” 

 

Favs was looking at him expectantly. Shit, he was supposed to be deciding what to eat. He scrambled to find something appealing on the menu to fill the silence, but was saved from answering when the waitress returned with their appetizer and wine.

 

“Here you are, gentlemen,” she said, and Lovett noticed she wasn’t making eyes at Favs anymore. 

 

“Thank you so much,” Favreau said, as she poured the wine. 

 

“Are we ready to order, or do you need another few minutes?” The waitress continued after placing a glass in front of both of them.

 

“I’m ready,” Favs said, folding his menu, “Jon, do you need-”

 

“I’m good,” Lovett said, quickly scanning the entrees, “I’m ready, you go first.”

 

“I’ll have the steak frites, please, medium rare,” Favs said, as he handed back his menu.

 

“Yes, um,” Lovett’s eyes landed on a decadent salmon with hollandaise, “I’ll have the salmon, please.” 

 

“Lovely,” said the waitress, “I’ll have those for you in just a moment.” Lovett watched her leave, and couldn’t help but feel a little gratified at the way she had backed off of Favreau. 

 

“So, what are your moves?” Lovett said, dipping a rosemary garlic crostini into the triple churned brie. 

 

“What do you mean?” Favs asked. 

 

“Y’know, your  _ moves _ ,” Lovett said, sucking a drip of cheese off his thumb. “ Let me peek behind the curtain a little, show me some of the wires behind the magic.  What makes the Jon Favreau Experience so special? You’ve gotten us a nice table at a trendy restaurant,  you suggested the appetizer to share, and the pretending to know about wine.” Favs ducked his head and laughed. 

 

“Was it that obvious I didn’t know anything about wine?” Favs said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 

“Well, I think most of the girls you bring here haven’t see you polish off a nine dollar box of chardonnay in a minute flat,” Lovett quipped, darting a look at Jon so he’d know it was playful, “but I’ll say that’s my fault, not yours.”

 

Favs laughed again, tongue caught between his teeth. 

 

“Okay,” he said, picking up his glass and turning his full attention to Lovett, “so, first of all, I suggest a toast.” Lovett lifted his glass obligingly, “And then I say something like ‘to good food, wonderful company, and to getting to know each other better.’” He maintained eye contact as he said the toast, and then lifted the glass to his lips. Lovett drank as well. The flush in his chest, he assured himself, was the wine. 

“Not bad,” he said grinning, and Favreau laughed again, “Does that really work on girls?”

 

“Yeah, it usually does,” Favs said, picking up his own breadstick and dragging it through the cheese, “It’s the ambiguity, y’know? She fills in what ‘get to know each other better’ really means. It’s a gentlemanly comment and a come on all at once.” 

 

“Unbelievable,” Lovett replies, “Even your lines are overwritten.” 

 

“Alright, show me one of your moves,” Favreau said, laughing, “Give me a taste of Jon Lovett’s charm.” 

 

“Oh god, alright,” Lovett shifted in his chair, “Just- just play along for me, alright?” Favreau nodded amicably. “So, where do you work?”

  
“Jon, we work together,” Favs answered, the ‘duh’ obvious in his tone.   
  


“No, no, no, this is our first date,” Lovett admonished, just a touch teasing, “I don’t know where you work. Perhaps you told me, but I’ve forgotten. So, tell me, Jon, where do you work?”

 

“I’m head speechwriter for President Obama,” Favs said, giving Lovett a bemused look. 

 

“Oh wow, that must be exciting!” Lovett feigned a very convincing look of impressed surprise, “How’d you get into speechwriting? Just a natural aptitude for it, or…?”   
  
“Oh, um, I guess so,” Favs said, turning bashful, “Politics have always really interested me, and I think how we talk about it is really important. Y’know, the best way to make people really passionate about something, is just to get the right words to reach them.”

 

“And you’re passionate about the right words,” Lovett continued, his voice pitched slightly lower, “You believe in the message the president has to impart, and you want to give him the best chance of it reaching people.”

 

“Yeah, exactly!” Favs said, a brightness to his eye. He was talking with his hands, bridging the distance across the table, “I really do think that we’re doing important work, and just being a part of it is amazing and- God, I can barely believe I’m allowed to even do this.”

 

“That’s really lovely,” Lovett said, a bit dreamily, leaning in, “You get to work on something you truly believe in, and it’s what you’re best at.”

 

“It’s a dream job I never thought I’d have,” Favs said, his smile wide and toothy, “I am… I’m really happy where I am right now.”

 

“And you haven’t noticed we’re holding hands.” Lovett smirked triumphantly at Favs as he looked down in confusion. Sure enough, they were holding hands across the table, fingers intertwined next to the cheese dip. 

 

“Oh my god,” Favreau said, softly and awed. 

 

“Everyone has a passion,” Lovett said, snagging another breadstick with his left hand, “I happen to have the advantage of knowing yours right off the bat. But if you get someone talking about what they’re really, truly proud of, and encourage that feeling of excitement, all you have to do is put your hand near theirs, and they’ll take it.” 

 

“That is… wow,” Favs looked rocked by this. He hadn’t stopped staring at their hands clasped together. 

 

“It’s a good move,” Lovett said, sipping his wine, “Usually I bust it out later in the night, but it always works.” He was hyper-aware of their bare skin touching. Favreau’s hand was warm, and seemed to dwarf Lovett’s completely. The veneer of the competition was the only thing that kept it from moving to scorching and unbearable.  

 

“How is everything?” The waitress returned to them, and Favs snatched his hand back like he’d been burned. 

 

“Everything’s great,” Favs said, pink-cheeked and a little breathless, “I think we’re done with the brie.” 

 

___

 

“Really?” Favs asked, holding the door open for Lovett, “Never on the first date?”   
  


“Nah,” Lovett said, stepping out around him onto the sidewalk, “Never ask about his family on the first date. You wanna stay as far away from his relationship with his father as you can, that’s like a been-dating-three-months conversation, at least.”  

 

Favs laughed goodnaturedly, because ‘joking’ was clearly the tone Lovett was aiming for. The late November wind crept under Favs’s jacket, but he was warm with wine and good food and barely noticed the chill. 

 

The rest of the dinner had gone smoothly. They’d talked about work and the latest bullshit in the news. Lovett had stolen a significant number of fries off Favs’s plate despite having roasted potatoes as a side. 

 

Favs had joked about how he couldn’t eat salmon anymore after eating it for dinner nearly every day during the primaries, and Lovett had informed him the the Obama campaign sounded like a cult. They’d shared a dessert, and Lovett had made Favs eat most of it, because he’d stolen the fries. When the cheque came, Lovett didn’t even reach for his wallet, which was just as well, because Favs wasn’t about to let him pay.

 

It was easy and comfortable in a way that made every part of the night better.  Favs couldn’t remember the last time a date had gone so well. 

 

“But you always ask about her family, eh?” Lovett said, slightly flushed with wine. 

 

“Oh yeah,” Favs replied, “I really try and push for the ‘guy you’d bring home to your parents’ image.” 

 

“Huh,” Lovett’s grin widened, “I’ve always gone for the ‘fun, flirty, lets fool around now and then catch a concert later’ kind of date. Don’t think I could pull off the ‘take me back for Thanksgiving’ vibe.”

 

“I think you could,” Favs said, looking Lovett over. He caught Lovett’s pleased, shocked expression, before Lovett turned his head away, ostensibly looking out at the traffic. A small blossom of hurt flared in his chest. He didn’t like Lovett thinking that he wasn’t good enough to take home. It was the same ache that prompted him to take Lovett out in the first place. 

 

“Yeah? The Favreau’s would like me, you think?” Favs heard Lovett try for a joking tone, slipping into earnest at the end.

 

“Yeah, you're funny, you're charming, you work in the  _ White House _ , you don't have any sports loyalties my dad would hate, you'd charm the pants off my mom, what's not to like?” Favs realized how true it was as he said it. Lovett still didn’t look at him. 

 

“You wouldn’t bring scandal down on Thanksgiving? Bringing a Jewish boy home?”

 

“I wouldn’t be the first,” Favs said, shrugging. It was strange how easily he pictured Lovett there with him. Lovett in the kitchen, trying to help his mom with the food and getting in the way more than anything. Lovett on the sidelines of the their family football game, cheering on whoever was winning. He could picture his mom pressing a tupperware of leftovers into Lovett’s hands, and making him promise to come back for Christmas. 

 

He wanted Lovett to have that with a fierceness that startled him. He wanted, additionally, to find everyone that Jon had ever dated who had made him react with  _ surprise _ to the idea that he’d be welcome there, who made him feel he wasn’t worth bringing home and explain exactly how wrong they were. 

 

“Anyway,” Favs shook himself free of his thoughts, “didn’t you say this was a three month in conversation? Breaking your own rules, Lovett, for shame.” 

 

“With you, I can make exceptions.” Lovett laughed, and tucked the sleeves of his sweater over his hands.

 

“Are you cold?” Favs asked, suddenly aware of his breath misting in the air, “Here, take my jacket.”

 

“Are you a real human being?" Lovett asked as Favs draped his sports jacket over Lovett’s shoulders, "Like, honestly a real actual person that exists on Earth?"

 

“Most of the time,” Favs grinned, and just to complete the move, offered Lovett his arm. Lovett blushed a little, but linked his arm with Favs, pressing closer to his side. 

 

They walked in silence for a moment, the streetlamps illuminating Lovett’s curls in a soft golden halo. 

 

“Thanks,” Lovett said, eventually, “This is really- I was really bummed out before, and this was a really nice night.” 

 

“I’m glad you had a good night,” Favs said, “Lived up to your expectations, then?”

 

“And then some!” Lovett knocked his shoulder against Favs, “My next date has a lot to live up to.”

 

“Yesssss, I’ve got game!” Favs crowed, pumping his fist in celebration. Lovett burst out laughing, and he sounded so endeared that Favs couldn’t help laughing too. 

 

They were both still warm from the wine they’d shared, from pressing together against the night chill. Lovett was still wearing his jacket, which made Favs feel accomplished for reasons he didn’t understand, and he had made Lovett laugh. He had made Lovett feel better. That was the whole point of the night, after all.

 

He was so wrapped up in the warmth of the moment that he didn’t notice they’d turned up the street to Tommy and Lovett’s apartment. Oh. He supposed the night was over, then. 

 

“Well,” Lovett said, sheepishly handing Favs back his jacket, “this is me.”   
  


“Oh,” Favs said, taking the jacket and folding it over his arm. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

 

He stood for a moment just looking at Lovett as he stood in the doorway to his building. He barely noticed when it started to gently snow. 

 

“I should, um,” Lovett nodded his head back toward the building, but made no move to go inside. They were maybe two steps apart. 

 

Favs thought about their date; about how Lovett had laughed at his jokes, how Lovett had grinned when Favs laughed at one of his. About the fact that Lovett had made him relax in a way he hadn’t since before the campaign. He took a step closer, halving the distance.

 

“I had a good time, tonight,” Favs said. He was close enough now that Lovett had to look up at him to make eye contact.

 

“Yeah,” Lovett said. There were snowflakes caught in his eyelashes. “You didn’t have to, but, you know. I appreciate it. Thanks.”  

 

“I wanted to,” Favs said, “You deserve it. To be dated, properly.”

 

“It was a good one,” Lovett allowed. He smiled at Favs, “I’ll see you at work then.”

 

He took a step back, onto the first stair of the stoop leading into his and Tommy’s apartment. Favs took the risk, and grabbed the sleeve of his sweater. Lovett stopped, blinking at him in confusion. He was still shorter than Favs, this way, but only by a little, and it was almost easy to take a step forward and close the distance between them. 

 

“Jon?” Lovett whispered. They were so close Favs could smell the wine on Lovett’s breath as it misted in the cold. He could see the snowflakes clinging to Lovett’s eyelashes and in the curls framing his face. There were the start of crows feet and laugh lines framing Lovett’s soft brown eyes, against the blush of his cheeks from the cold and the wine. 

 

Favs’s hands must have been cold because Lovett shivered when he reached out and cupped his jaw between them.  This was Lovett. Lovett who came with him on a wonderful date. Lovett who was there, standing right in front of him. Lovett who had always been there.

 

“Jon…” Lovett whispered again. This time his eyes fluttered closed, and the snowflakes melted on his cheeks. 

 

Favs leaned in and pressed his lips against Lovett’s. 

 

The kiss was half shy, barely a chaste brush of their lips together, but Lovett leaned up into it anyway, sighing as Favs pulled back. Lovett was looking at him anxiously, like he was expecting some sort of joke. 

 

“Let me take you out for dinner,” Favs said, suddenly breathless, “Properly this time, as a real date.”

 

Lovett let out a small shocked laugh.

 

“Really?” He asked, softly, “You actually want...” Lovett struggled for words for a moment, “You want  _ me?” _

 

“Yeah,” Favs said, trying to impart how important this revelation was, “Yeah, I do. And I want to date you, Jon.”

 

Lovett rose up on the balls of his feet and gripped Favs’s shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss. They stayed that way, locked together in their embrace, with the snow falling gently around them, until Lovett pushed Favs back a little.

 

“Yes,” he answered, and his smile was so wide and genuine that Favs couldn’t help grinning back at him like an idiot. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

 

__

 

Lovett walked back into the apartment on cloud nine. The warmth of the apartment washed over him and made him remember how Favs had felt pressed against him in a kiss. He was near dizzy with the pleasure of it. He felt like a Jane Austen character who just got proposed to. 

 

“Well, you look like you had a good night.”

 

Lovett turned around. Tommy was sitting at the kitchen table eating a microwave lasagna out of the package. 

 

“Yeah, I really did,” Lovett replied, unable to stop smiling, “The best first date in probably my entire life.” 

 

“Oh that’s nice,” Tommy said, “You gonna see him again?” 

 

“Oh, I think probably,” Lovett said, making his way towards his room, “I’m counting on it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> So according to the episode this is based on, Tommy's either been spending the day playing Ms. Pacman or roller skating all over the White House, both of which are extremely funny. 
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr at handsomeobamaintherain !!


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